Won't Be Fooled Again
by jenajasper
Summary: What if Sam didn't knock? This is an alternate story to follow "Across The Universe"/hope u like/thanks for the support/I took it as far as it would go and you know I need a happy ending
1. Chapter 1

His hand was poised to knock. Perhaps, he took one second too long. Perhaps, he had one thought too many. Perhaps, he was just too angry.

Sam lowered his arm and walked down the hallway. But he didn't go to his room. He went to the closest place with alcohol. Back to the library.

He knew he wasn't there to work and drinking wasn't usually his problem solver. He was still so angry. No, he was pissed!

"Just because you're sorry. Just because you can't let go."

Sam was on his second shot before he knew it.

"You tell yourself you're doing the right thing. Spin it however you want, Dean, deep down you know it's all about you. I'm sorry Dad put all that on you. And I'm sorry you think you're still responsible for me. But you can't fix everything and I can make my own decisions. I'm just so sick and tired of the all the secrets and all the lies."

Sam took another drink.

"Because of your crap, Gadreel and the rest of the Angels are out there doing God knows what. Kevin is dead. And Crowley and Abaddon are wreaking havoc everywhere they go."

And another, maybe two.

"I could have closed the Gates of Hell. Who cares how messed up I got? I was ready to die for that. Closing the Gates was our job!"

Not only had Sam lost track of how many drinks he'd had, he'd also forgotten how alcohol makes your voice carry.

"You saved me, Dean. Now, what?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

Dean sat in his room for, what he felt, was a long time. What was he going to do now?

He hoped to feel better after talking to Cas, but, with no one talking back, it didn't help much. He toyed with the idea of finding Sam to try and fix this. But after the earlier confrontation, he just couldn't listen to it anymore.

His thoughts became vocal: "That hurt, Sam. How do we stop being brothers? We don't care any more?"

He started to feel like a caged animal. Disgusted with the situation and disappointed in his own behavior, Dean decided to go out. He had to get away and clear his head.

He bared his soul to his little brother, in that parking lot, and got stomped on. He wouldn't do it again. Not without fighting back.

He grabbed his jacket and his keys. As he opened the bedroom door, he heard Sam's voice. It didn't sound right, either. He was drunk! Dean was a little shocked at this and a bit pleased. Sam would be very sick in the morning.

He still wanted out and needed to avoid his brother even more. This would get ugly real quick.

Unfortunately for Dean, the layout of the bunker had the front door, not only up a flight a stairs, but also in view of the library. In addition, the Impala was not in the garage, which would have given Dean another way out.

He stood in the hallway and tried not to listen to the tirade. He heard the bottle, as it got slammed onto the wooden table, then closed his eyes and took slow deep breaths in an attempt to block out the rants and calm himself. They were both so angry.

After the final outburst, it was silent. Dean figured Sam was either passed out or asleep. He started towards the door looking into the library as he walked by. Sam was seated, with his head back and his eyes closed.

As Dean started up the stairs, he heard his name called, loudly. He didn't stop. The chair hit the floor and glass shattered. Dean stopped and turned. He wasn't going to avoid this any longer.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III

Descending the stairs, Dean spoke slowly and calmly. "Sam, you're drunk. We can do this in the morning."

"Why wait, Dean? So you can sneak out again like a coward?"

Coward? Dean tightly gripped the banister. It took all the control he could muster to swallow that insult. If anyone else had said that to him, the least he would have gotten was a bloody lip. "Look, I wasn't…" He caught himself. This would just become another argument and their plates were full.

The combination of menacing and staggering that Dean witnessed, as Sam approached, would normally have struck him funny. But his sense of humor was buried deep.

"What are you trying to do, Sam?"

Sam was done talking. His head was pounding. He walked toward his brother without knowing what came next. He took two long strides, misjudged the distance and swung a wild roundhouse spinning almost one hundred eighty degrees.

Instinctively, Dean reached out and grabbed his brother. The momentum pulled them both down into a heap on the floor, Dean managing to wrap his arms around his younger brother and land on top.

"Dean, let me go!"

"Not until you calm down. Dammit, Sam hold still!"

"I'm warning you. Let go."

Dean held tight. Up until now, they had avoided any serious injury and he knew, soon enough, exhaustion from struggling combined with the drinking should subdue Sam.

"Dean, I gotta get up."

"Are you gonna stop?"

"I'm still kicking your ass."

"Wrong answer."

Sam continued to squirm but his brother was not letting go. Suddenly, he relaxed and his breathing became slightly labored.

"Finally, " Dean mouthed, loosening his grip while rolling Sam on his back.

Little brother's face had lost some color and beads of sweat had collected, dampening his hairline. Dean became anxious with concern for him. Realization struck him a moment too late. As quickly as he could, he flipped Sam onto his side but the damage was done.

Dean's hands, their clothes, Sam's chin and the floor were covered with the aftermath of Sam's drinking binge.

He threw up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

Dean yanked off his top shirt, having left his jacket at the foot of the stairs, and wiped his hands and Sam's face. He tried to clean the floor but the shirt was useless.

He tossed it aside and focused his attention on his brother who was now lying on his back. Sam's breathing was deep and slow and his eyes were closed.

Putting everything else aside, Dean knew it was big brother time. "You don't need me to take care of you, right, Sammy?" He spoke, softly, without malice or sarcasm. "Stay put. I'll be right back."

When Dean returned, Sam had barely moved. Laying down his bundle, a combination of wet and dry towels, Dean placed a cold cloth on Sam's forehead. Reacting to the chill, he opened his eyes. He couldn't really focus but he didn't need to; he knew he was in good hands.

After washing Sam's face and hands, Dean lightly tapped his brother's cheek.

"Sam, you gotta try to get up now, ok?"

"I feel like crap, Dean."

"I know that, 'Drunken Master'. Let's go.

Dean slid his hands beneath his brother's shoulders and lifted him. Sam groaned at the change in altitude of his head. He rested it on Dean's shoulder before nodding, signaling his readiness to continue.

Slowly, they stood up, Sam mostly supported by his brother, then took the long walk down the hall. After putting Sam to bed, Dean went back to clean up.

He dispatched the mishap, by the stairs, with a mop up and a load of laundry. He found the library littered with varying sized pieces of glass and sticky, half-dried splotches of alcohol. With a sigh, and an uncensored remark, he got to work.

Taking a break, he checked on Sam. Sleep was best, at this point, so Dean didn't disturb him. Upon closing the door, he said his goodnight and added, "I guess we'll do this in the morning, after all."

Having put the place back together, Dean reached for a bottle then decided what he really wanted was a shower.

The heat and steam revitalized him. A clean t-shirt and sweats made him feel like a new man. And the man was hungry.


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

Sam opened his eyes. His mouth was dry and pasty and his head hurt. Grabbing one of two bottles of water from his nightstand, he drank half before he saw the pills. He swallowed them, too.

He had no idea how long he slept, or even how he had gotten to bed. But as bad as felt, he knew, he wasn't going back to sleep.

Having satisfied his hunger, Dean was at the sink, with his back to the door, when Sam walked in.

"Dean, what happened last night?"

Without turning around, he answered, "What do you remember?"

"I was drinking? I mean, I don't remember after but I remember before."

Dean's posture stiffened. He remembered all of it. He turned to face his brother, "We don't have to do this. Go shower and I'll fix you something to eat."

"Don't, Dean."

"Please, Sam. You'll feel better and then, whatever you want to do."

Sam left the room without speaking. Dean shook his head and went to work on Sam's breakfast.

He hated to admit when Dean was right. The shower did help. Back in his room, Sam finished what was left in the open water bottle and dressed. He wasn't looking forward to a confrontation. But this had to come to a head. There was just too much tension between them.

He could smell breakfast before he got to the kitchen.

Dean smiled, "Feel better?"

Sam took a seat before answering, "A little, yeah"

"Good. I made you something special."

"Please don't say it's a greasy pork chop in the ashtray."

Dean laughed and it felt good. "You remember that?"

Serving up his brother's breakfast and himself another cup of coffee, Dean sensed there would be no more pleasant conversation. So, he made a decision. "Look, take your time. Eat your breakfast and I'll be in the library."

Walking out the door, he said, mostly to himself, "Let's just get this over with."

Sam turned his head and watched his brother leave.

Once in the library, Dean flipped open the laptop and began searching the news sites. He wasn't actually looking for a job; there was enough going on. He thought to himself, "Who the hell makes an appointment to fight?"

He was seriously considering a drink, when Sam walked in.

"Hey."

.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI

Dean looked up as Sam walked in.

"So, welcome back to the scene of the crime."

Sam rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling and thought "always a smart ass", then looked at his brother and said, "Thanks. Listen, Dean…"

"No, you listen." Dean was surprisingly calm. "I don't know what your plans are, but, I'm tired of being a punching bag. Lately, I've felt pretty lousy. Blaming myself for a lot of things, like everything. "

"It's not about that." Sam was about to continue, when Dean put up his hand to stop him.

"Wait, Sam. Let me finish. You know, Cas told me something about doing the wrong things for the right reasons and I thought it was crap. But, now, I can kind of see what he meant. Maybe we end up with a mess and all we can do is fix it. But, I can't keep punishing myself for doing what I think is right ."

"We just don't see things the same way any more, Dean. I can't trust you to do what I think is right."

"Like saving your ass? That's the right thing to me!"

"Well, that's part of the problem. It's not about us and if one of us has to die to get the job done…"

Dean interrupted, "Then, that would be me."

Sam's composure was weakening. "Stop it, Dean. Why do you always do that? Dude, you are so full of it. You don't want to die any more than anyone else. You work too hard at staying alive. What, do you think so little of yourself that your only value is being a martyr? Then why fight? Just let somebody kill you!"

Sam hated doing this to his brother, exposing the inner workings that no one should see. "Just be honest about it."

"That's enough!" Dean slammed his fist on the table as he got up from his seat.

He tried to control himself, but he was tired of being called a liar. As he approached Sam he said, "You know who's the real hypocrite? That would be you!" And he punctuated it with a forceful shove.

Sam pushed back hard enough that Dean grabbed a chair to keep his balance. Turning away, Sam pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead then ran his fingers through his hair, in an attempt, to calm down. He had never wanted this to become physical.

Any other time, Dean would have come back swinging, but he had tried to avoid this fight for two days. So, he kept his distance.

"You were ready to die, Sam, really? You stopped me from doing the trials because, you said, I was on a suicide mission. You told me there was light in the tunnel; you would do the trials and we would live happily ever after. Remember that?"

Sam couldn't face his brother. "I'm not perfect, Dean, and I was naïve to think we could do the trials and survive. I resigned myself to finish it and then you showed up."

Dean never questioned his decision to save his brother that night or any other time. He couldn't understand why Sam did. He walked towards him and put a hand on Sam's arm attempting to turn him around, but, he stood firm.

"I will always try to save you. That's what I do; that's who I am."

Sam shrugged his brother's hand off and, in frustration, walked out of the room. As he left, he said, "Dean, you just don't get it!"

As he watched Sam storm out, Dean said, "You're wrong, you know. It's always been about you and me."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII

"…you and me"

Sam halted, immediately, as he felt every muscle tighten. His nerves sizzling under the skin and his hands coiled into fists, almost on their own. He turned to face his brother.

Dean was not afraid of Sam, not his size or his temper. But he felt uncomfortable looking at the man approaching him.

"You know what the problem is, Dean?" Sam grabbed his brother's arms, in an attempt to pin them to his side, and shook him once. Dean looked up and smiled, "I love it when you take charge, Sammy, but..", and with that, he swung his arms and broke the hold. It took more effort than he expected and it showed on his face.

"You want to fight? We can fight, but.." The fist came hard and fast. Dean was stunned. It wasn't enough to knock him down, but it did force him back a step or two. His own fist came up. But, he kept his distance and slowly loosened his fingers and touched his lip, checking for blood.

Then he spoke,"If you want to go there, we can. That won't fix anything." As angry as he was, Sam was not anxious for a physical confrontation, either. He really did agree with Dean on that.

"You still think this family thing is a reward?" Realizing there was no appropriate answer, Dean kept silent.

"As long as we keep it together, we'll be happy. Don't you understand? It's a freaking curse! Since day one, you and me, being family, being brothers, has done nothing but hurt us and everyone we care about."

This struck Dean to his core. All he had, all he ever wanted, was his family, his brother. He spent his whole life watching out for them, just to keep it together.

Sam continued, "When you came into that church, I was probably a minute away from the end. I didn't know I was going to die, but, I knew I wasn't right. And I was ok with it. We would have done our job."

"But, Sam, if you had known.."

"No, Dean. You walked in and everything changed. All of a sudden, I didn't want to go through with it. Nothing else mattered, except not disappointing you!"

"But we can fix this. All of it. We just have to stick together."

"Dammit, Dean. Aren't you listening? That's the problem, this bond. That's what stops us from doing what we have to do."

Dean thought he was listening to a foreign language. If this was the problem, there would be no fixing, not for him. "Is that why you didn't look for me, when I was in purgatory? Did that solve the problem for you?"

The silence was deafening. Dean needed to know he was wrong and Sam needed to answer.

"I had no idea what happened to you. I just had to go on by myself"

"You did alright. You found company." The comment reeked with sarcasm.

"Don't do this. I didn't try to replace you. I couldn't." Sam's thoughts went to the friendship between Benny and Dean. He remembered how hurt he felt and unnecessary.

Dean continued, "But without me, you didn't feel responsible any more, right? You walked away and became Joe Normal, just like you always wanted."

Dean didn't want to believe that his brother only came back out of obligation. He would never walk away and leave Sam anywhere. They both knew that.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII

Sam tried to reassure his brother. "I know what you've done for me. You're always doing for me."

Dean didn't understand why Sam needed to state the obvious. Sam continued. "The only time you lived your own life was, when I was gone, at college, with Lisa."

Dean couldn't listen to this. "Do you think I was happy? That I wasn't worried about you? Sam, I was four years old when I started looking out for you!"

Sam sighed, almost a groan, in frustration. "Dean, I'm not you. I'm not like you. You're my brother and I love you, but..."

"There's no 'but'. What happened to you, Sam?"

"I grew up, Dean. This isn't a game. We're not just chasing monsters, any more."

Dean turned away to stop from saying what he was thinking. 'You're the monster, now. Deserting your family and turning on your brother ' Instead, he said, "We still have work to do. And how do we do it, if we can't count on each other?"

Sam reached out and rested his hand on his brother's shoulder. Dean shut his eyes and lowered his head. Sam said, "We can still work. That's all instinct and experience. I'm not talking about the work."

Dean turned to face his brother, removing the hand from his shoulder. "What are you talking about, Sam? Using me as bait, so you can get your shot? Leaving me hurt, somewhere, because you've got a lead on something else?"

"Come on, Dean. I couldn't do that to you!"

"Of course, you could. You've got no responsibility to me any more. I'm just another hunter to you." Dean was almost overcome with the weight of the conversation. He pushed past Sam and started to walk away.

Sam also turned and spoke Dean's name, almost in a whisper and pleading, he added, "Wait".

Dean spun back around. Sam could almost feel the anguish, he saw, on his brother's face. Dean's voice broke as he spoke. "Wait, for what? I know what I am, now. A hunter, alone, no attachments, nothing but my work. Just the way I knew I'd end up."

Sam remembered how angry he became after Dean stopped him, with Crowley. He recalled all the terrible things he had said, the past few days. Who was he to judge how Dean felt? When did he become so self-righteous?

Or, was he just punishing a substitute because, he knew, he was just as guilty as his brother? He stopped the trials because Dean asked him to. He stopped Dean because he didn't want to lose him.

This bond would be the death of them.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean was waiting for Sam to respond. He had nothing left. And, it seemed, Sam had nothing to give him. He turned again to leave and Sam grabbed his arm to stop him. Dean said, "I've had enough." Sam answered, "No, Dean. I'll go."

Dean let him go. He reached into his pocket as he called out, "Sam, hold up." When Sam looked back, Dean tossed him the car keys. With a half-hearted smile he said, "You shouldn't go out alone." Sam returned the smile and walked out.

Dean was alone, alone with his thoughts and the memories of the past few days. Dean felt completely alone, now. No, he still had one friend; he reached for a bottle.

Sam sat behind the wheel of the Impala. He ran his hand along the dashboard and around the steering wheel. This was all Dean. This was the home he had made for them until they had found the bunker.

He had no idea where to go. Drinking was very unappealing to him, right now. He wasn't hungry; he really didn't want company. He let his head fall back on to the headrest and just sat in the car.

Dean poured himself a drink. He looked at the glass and swirled the brown liquid. He put the glass down. When did he become the bad guy? Taking care of his little brother? Keeping them both alive? How do you turn off being a family? Dean swallowed the drink.

Sam couldn't believe some of the things he had said. How could he do that to him? Dean had always taken care of him. Was it Dean's fault that they lived this life? Was it Dean's fault that his only option to save him was a deal with an unscrupulous angel? And Dean would always try to save him. That was just fact. But, was it Dean's fault that Sam felt the same responsibility to take care of him?

He didn't want to lose his brother, either, no matter how many times he told Dean to back off and let him live his own life. He had to admit, to himself, that stopping the trials had been his own decision. He may have done it because Dean was there but it was his decision.

The work would never be enough. He needed a family as much as Dean did. He missed having a brother. He missed his brother. He got out of the car.


	10. Chapter 10

He thought out loud, "What are you gonna do, Dean, wallow in it? Did I just say 'wallow'?" He waved his hand in the air, as if to erase the words.

"Screw that. I love my brother and I will protect my family. I'm not apologizing for that. I'll do whatever I have to and if that means cleaning up the mess, after, then bring it. He's mad at me; I'm mad at him. I ain't playing that game no more. And if Sam has a problem with that, it's on him. I'm good. Let the work be the work; I'm gonna be happy. I'm taking this home and family crap and I'm running with it."

Satisfied, he had solved the major problems of the world, again, Dean asked himself, "Now, what's for dinner?"

Sam leaned back against the driver's side door. He had his arms folded across his chest and his long legs crossed at the ankles. He looked straight ahead focusing on nothing. His senses felt overloaded. He was exhausted. His brother had always done so much for him and never asked, and barely accepted, anything in return.

He wanted Dean to save him; he had to accept that as fact. How could anyone do this job without some kind of backup? Even Dad had friends and he always had Dean. But who does Dean have? Out loud, he said, "He's only got me. How could he ever forgive me? I left him to languish in Purgatory, all that time, while I was happy and safe." Sam rubbed his hand across the roof of the Impala. Then pushing his hands into his pockets, he started walking.

The kitchen was always well stocked. They didn't work the 'nine to five' so meals were unscheduled at best. He found the chicken in the meat freezer and placed it in the sink. The pantry was next. He preferred fresh tomatoes but, they were hard to keep so, canned would do the job. He stopped at the spice rack. Although most were supplies for spells and rituals, this was an assortment worthy of a test kitchen. He picked up basil, oregano, a couple of other things then, grabbed onions and peppers, on the way out. Sam laughed whenever he caught Dean watching the cooking channels but that's how he learned to freeze fresh mushrooms. He pulled out the container and grabbed the wine. After taking inventory, he began the task of preparing the chicken.

It would take a couple of hours but dinner would be great, chicken cacciatore, perfect!

Sam loved to walk. Out here alone, he could think, solve all his problems. Well, it's not working this time, he thought. How was he going to fix this with Dean? He didn't mean half those things he had said. They were brothers; you can't just erase that.

Sam thought that maybe he could just apologize. Dean's a reasonable guy. He had to laugh at that. Then out loud he said, "Plus, I punched him in the mouth; he owes me for that." He kept walking.


	11. Chapter 11

It was getting dark by the time he started back. He pulled out his phone to test the waters. No, he would do this in person.

Sam could hear the music as soon as he opened the door. This wasn't 'brooding Dean' music; this was 'happy Dean' music and he could smell the cooking. Sam walked towards the kitchen very uncertain of what he would find.

At the kitchen door, he called out to his brother. But, with his back turned, the loud music and his bad singing, Dean didn't hear him. Sam approached and tapped Dean on the shoulder.

Dean's elbow came up quick and caught Sam in the chest, knocking him back a step. Dean turned with the knife still in his hand. He dropped it when he saw Sam and lowering the music, he said, "You shouldn't do that." Sam raised his hands and answered, I called out; you didn't hear me." Then he rubbed his chest and said, "I guess we're even now."

Dean started to turn back to his cooking so, Sam spoke up.

"Dean, I'm really not angry at you."

"You sure fooled me."

"Seriously, you always know what to do. You always know what's right. You never hesitate when it comes to me."

"Sammy, is that what you think?"

Sam held up his hand and continued. "Please, Dean. I just feel so inadequate, sometimes. Like you deserve better."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You, inadequate? Did you get drunk again? You have to be the smartest person, the second best hunter. There's nothing wrong with you that a little fun wouldn't cure. Everything is not that serious, Sam. And, I can't believe I'm saying this but, life is good."

Sam didn't know what to think. He'd never heard his brother talk like this. But he had something else he had to say.

"I'm so sorry, Dean. All I saw was Dick Roman explode and then you and Cas disappeared. I thought you were all scattered. How do I start to collect millions of pieces? And from where? I had no one, no help, not even a starting point. You were just gone. I couldn't think beyond the promise to take care of the Impala so, that's what I did. And then I just drove."

Dean had no idea that Sam felt this way. He had to make it right. "So, you didn't save me. You didn't know where I was. Hell, I didn't know where I was. But, I got out." He patted Sam's face and said, "It's ok. We're not doing this any more. You hungry?"

The non sequitur threw Sam off. "Dean, you don't have to do this."

Dean answered. "It's dinner. We have to eat. So, please.." He pointed down the hall.

Sam could smell the aroma and asked. "It does smell good. What is it?"

Smiling and nodding, okay beaming, Dean answered. "Chicken Cacciatore." Sam's face betrayed his disbelief. So, Dean explained. "It's an old hunters' recipe."

Sam asked, "What hunter taught you that?"

Dean rolled his eyes and shaking his head said, "College boy"

r


	12. Chapter 12

After dinner and cleanup, the awkwardness threatened to return. Their thoughts lingered on recent events.

Dean was determined to put it behind them. He had said all he would about all of this. They had finally gotten to the reason for Sam's outburst and it was settled, at least for him. They would be a family again. They would save the world and keep each other safe.

Sam always envied his brother's ability to put his feelings out there and let them go. Dean could be a brooding son of a bitch and take some powerful prodding sometimes, but once out, that was that. Sam was a boiler. He put his feelings out and percolated until he was almost sick of it. He had hurt Dean. He said some terrible things. But Dean was okay, or so he said. He seemed happy now. They were friendly; dinner was nice. Why can't he just let it go?

Dean suggested a movie. Sam was so relieved that the tension was gone between them, he let Dean choose. It was a John Wayne film. Sam made the mistake of asking if it was a western. The look he got caused him to remind Dean that John Wayne made war movies too. But, he should have known, if Dean was picking, it most probably was cowboys.

The film was unfamiliar to Sam, "Red River", but Dean convinced him he would like it. Sam was willing. He was just happy to spend a peaceful evening with his brother and have a little fun. They settled in, Dean with a half-gallon of ice cream and Sam, still full from dinner.

They made their usual comments about the fight scenes and the gunplay. But they enjoyed the story and the action. Although Eastwood was his favorite, John Wayne rarely disappointed Dean. They found themselves involved in the relationship between Tom (played by Wayne) and Matt (played by Montgomery Clift). Not really father and son but family none the less.

It's the story of a cattle drive. They suffer the usual pitfalls, stampede, lack of water, clash of tempers. At one point, with the men close to mutiny, Tom gets tough, driving the cowboys beyond exhaustion. Three of the men run off, taking ammunition and food. When they're brought back, Tom wants to make an example of them. Matt finally thinks he's gone too far.

Matt: "You're not gonna hang them."

Tom: "Who'll stop me?"

Matt: "I will."

With this, Sam says, "Wow, Dean. The kid finally stood up to him."

His brother answered. "He's growing up. Just trying to do the right thing, find his own way."

It was during the climactic shoot-out scene, that Sam asked, "Dean, do you think he'll kill him?"

Dean said, "He can't. He raised him. He loves the guy." Then almost to himself, he added, "I couldn't, no matter what he did"

When it ended, Dean was happy. "That was awesome, hey Sammy." His brother agreed. But, it didn't take a genius to see the parallels with their own lives. And Sam thought, Dean wouldn't be that calculating.

It was only a cowboy movie.

THE END


End file.
